


LOTR 100 (2003)

by Dernhelm



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Siblings, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dernhelm/pseuds/Dernhelm
Summary: A collection of seven drabbles written for the LOTR_100 LiveJournal community way back in 2003.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Boromir (Son of Denethor II), Aragorn | Estel/Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Arwen Undómiel & Éowyn, Denethor II & Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Elrond Peredhel & Gilraen, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Éomer Éadig & Éowyn, Éowyn/Gríma Wormtongue
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	LOTR 100 (2003)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of archiving the stuff I wrote back in the day on LiveJournal. I did minimal editing to preserve it posterity's sake. This stuff makes me cringe in places, but in others it makes me smile. I like seeing how far I've come as a writer in 17 years, and how much I loved this fandom.
> 
> Quick note about the "suicidal thoughts" tag: it's just Faramir's second run on Osgiliath, part of the canon.

**Fear**

He had tried all his life to be a good son.

Faramir loved his father. Even as madness had gripped Denethor, and hatred sparked from his stormy eyes, Faramir could deny his father nothing.

So he rode, leading his men back to the broken city of Osgiliath, his heart thundering as loudly as the hoofbeats that led them closer to their doom.

He knew it wad suicide. As more and more foul faces leered from the ravaged buildings, Faramir’s stomach knotted into a fist, and a cold sweat broke out under his helmet.

For Gondor. For his father.

“Brother,” Faramir whispered as he drew his sword for the final charge, “soon we will be together again.”

The arrows fell like rain.

**Honesty**

In the deep shadows of Meduseld he stood, as always, skulking and watching with hungry eyes. Oh but she was beautiful, the White Lady of Rohan, luminous as the moon breaking through the blackness that enveloped his mind as she knelt before the king in her grief.

He did it all for her. Every lie, every deception, moving the pieces across the board 

Grima looked upon his face for the first time in years: clammy skin, eyes red-rimmed and rheumy, hair stringy and unwashed. He disgusted himself.

Had he always lived like this? Had he always skulked in the shadows, a creature of lies and dark promises? 

Had he always been Wormtongue? 

He stared upon himself in the hateful mirror, captivated by the foul face, only a reflection of the true taint that lay within his heart. 

She passed behind him then, as cold and luminous as the moon; and suddenly the mirror revealed a ghost: skin fresh and young, blue eyes shining, a smile on his rosy lips. An honest face. One worthy of her love.

He had sold himself to the Shadows. 

Only now did he truly know the cost. 

**Identity**

They’d waited too long for this moment. 

Boromir's kiss trembled tenderly against the ranger's mouth, as achingly sweet as Aragorn had dreamed it to be. 

Aragorn darted his tongue between the warrior's parted lips, wine and desire burning in Boromir’s mouth. 

"My King, what do you ask of me?" A husky voice whispered into the kiss. 

Elessar’s eyes flew open, and the vision fled from him as quickly as a boat over the Falls of Raros.

Faramir's eyes were bright and moist as he gazed adoringly upon his King, a smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

Aragorn said nothing, and turned to hide his tears.

**Introductions 1**

The dark-haired woman wept bitterly as she kept wake over her husband’s mauled body.

Only four years wed, and already a widow. 

And a mother.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder, pulling her from her mourning.

Were it not for the tears on his own cheeks, the elflord’s face would have appeared cold to her young eyes.

“I am sorry, Gilraen. Had he not come to the aid of my sons. . .”

Elrond sighed deeply, drinking in her grief.

“I cannot restore your husband for you, my Lady. But for your son, I can still give him a father.”

**Introductions 2**

The boy waited outside his mother’s room. He had not been allowed to see her for days, and he was anxious for even a glimpse of her and his new brother.

A smiling midwife poked her head out.

“Your mother still rests, but you can see your sister now.”

“Sister?!”

She brought the babe before Éomer, and he stared at her with disdain.

“You were supposed to be a boy,” he said bitterly as he leaned his face close.

Éowyn’s tiny fist landed square on his nose. It did not hurt, but the strength in her surprised him. 

Maybe a sister wasn’t so bad after all. 

**Romance**

The ship was built, the sails unfurled, and the sea called in her rough voice, beckoning the elf to his final home.

The dwarf stood on the shore, refusing to look at the boat’s passenger as he readied its departure. Long, happy years they had been together, but now their time was at an end.

“Well, I guess this is good-bye,” Gimli said gruffly, trying to hide his tears as he looked away...

Gentle laughter met his ears, which shocked him as he looked up into tender blue eyes. 

“Silly dwarf,” Legolas said softly as he extended his hand, “did you not realize this boat was for us both?”

**Teaching**

“Damn this thread!” Eowyn cursed as she tugged at the snarl in her embroidery.

“Do not be so rough with it,” Arwen said gently, helping her untangle the knot.

“This is stupid,” Eowyn grumbled, “I’m horrible at this!”

“You are not patient,” Arwen replied, “when you are hasty you end up only with tangles.”

Eowyn sighed and tried again. 

A minute later she cried out in frustration and threw the fabric across the room.

“I give up! It’s hopeless!” 

Arwen arched an eyebrow at her friend.

“The slayer of the Witch-King has been bested by a sampler?”

Eowyn’s face went beet red, and she got up to reclaim the project.


End file.
